


(Don't You) Forget About Me

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [42]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Amnesia, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misunderstandings, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 09:08:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Tony desperately needs a new roommate. Bucky desperately needs a new place to live. It would be a perfect match, except for the thing that Tony can’t remember.





	(Don't You) Forget About Me

**Author's Note:**

> MCU Kink Bingo Fill N5: Roommates
> 
> loosely based on tumblr story about "I got my ass ate at a party and I don't remember the guy" "Funny, I ate some guy's ass at a party and..." 
> 
> Title from Simple Mind's song Don't You Forget About Me

Jack Rollins took a drag off one of his shitty, home-rolled cigarettes and blew smoke in Tony’s face. “He’s gone. Pulled up stakes and headed west.” Tony hadn’t seen his roommate for almost a week, which under most circumstances would have been good, except the power bill was now ten days overdue and they were going to cut service if Tony didn’t pay them by next week, and then the rent was due a week after that.

“Gone _where_?” Tony persisted. “He owes me for rent and bills! He never even finished cleaning up after that last party he threw!”

“ _Gone_ ,” Rollins said. “Medical withdrawal, so he’s not technically flunked out, but, let’s face it. He’s flunking out. Can’t keep his place on the football team with those grades, and without the team, he’s got no scholarship. Dude’s _gone_. He’s in the wind. Tough break.”

Rollins blew another plume of smoke into Tony’s face. Tony managed not to react, but he wanted to fold over on himself in sudden panic. How the hell was he going to pay the bills and rent, now?

He couldn’t let Rollins see it, though. Rollins had been there at the party. He might even have witnessed-- No. Tony pulled himself together. He _was_ going to finish out the semester, and he _was_ going to keep his scholarship, even if he had to live in the Student Union for the rest of the semester. Fuck if he was going to go crawling back to Howard and admit he couldn’t hack it on his own. _Fuck_ that.

“Fine,” Tony said, drawing a mask of indifference over the panic. “When you talk to him, though, tell him he still owes me for this month’s power bill.”

“I’ll let him know how desperately you miss him,” Rollins drawled, giving Tony a downright creepy stare, before licking his bottom lip suggestively.

Tony stalked away, mind whirling.

Step one: put up signs. This late into the semester, he probably wasn’t going to be able to find a new roommate, but he might luck out.

Step two: Take a bath in some bleach, because it was looking more and more likely that he had, in fact, gotten drunk enough at that party to fuck Brock Rumlow.

Christ, it was almost embarrassing enough to make him glad the man was gone. He didn’t need Rumlow getting any ideas about there being a repeat performance at any time. What the hell had been in those drinks, anyway? Sharing the apartment with Rumlow had been bad enough; Tony wouldn’t have thought there were beer-goggles thick enough in the universe to make him sleep with the man.

Not that Rumlow wasn’t attractive, in his own way. It was just that the attractiveness wore off really fast, as soon as you realized what a raging douchebag the guy was.

On the other hand... Tony’s bank account was down to about fifteen dollars, payday wasn’t for another week, and he rather desperately needed the power to stay on if he were going to have any hope of finishing his schoolwork.

***

“Hey, I’m calling about your craigslist ad? You still got that room to rent?”

“Yeah!” Tony sat up straight, suddenly awake. “I mean, yes, I haven’t decided who to rent it to, yet.” That was because he didn’t have any offers, but the scent of desperation chased people away. “Did you want to come have a look at it?”

It had taken him the last two days to clean up the remnants of Rumlow’s big party. He’d been stepping over the trash and mess for a week, determined to make Rumlow do it himself, but apparently that party had been Rumlow’s farewell party. It figured that Tony would get stuck with cleaning up after that, too.

“Yeah, great,” the guy said, and his voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Tony couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “I hate to sound pushy and needy, but my living situation is pretty well intolerable. I’m available all day, if you want to make an appointment?”

“As it happens, I just got back from class, so you can come over now,” Tony half-lied. He’d miss his Robotics class, but he was confident he could stay caught up.

“Great,” the guy said. “I work nights, so it’s usually better if I do stuff before I go to sleep. Shoot me the address and I’ll head on over.”

“I’ll text it to this number, if that’s good.”

“Yep,” the guy said.

“Great, I’ll see you soon. You got a name?”

“Barnes. James Barnes.” The guy paused, then laughed at himself. “Okay, that makes me sound like a wanna be double-oh-seven asshole, sorry, I’m not like that. You?”

“Tony,” he said. “Stark. Who knows; maybe I’ll be the Q to your Bond.”

“Oh,” Barnes said, like it meant something, and then he hung up. Tony texted him the address anyway, just in case, although the _oh_ sounded… ominous. Or something. And yet, twenty minutes later, the doorbell made it’s _I’m sick and in need of help_ sound.

Tony lurched for the door, braced against the way it stuck in the frame, just a little, and yanked it open. “Hey!” he said. “You must be...” Words died. Barnes, James Barnes was _to die for_ gorgeous. “Uh.” Tony blinked like he was staring into the sun, then rather forcibly jolted himself back online, and stepped back out of the way to let the man in. “Come in.” Shit, that sounded lame.

Barnes, who had been grinning widely, eyes making this adorable crinkle, wilted a bit, then stepped inside. “Yeah, I thought-- you don’t remember me, do you?” He looked around, chewing his bottom lip and shaking his head ruefully.

“Um. Sorry, no,” Tony admitted. He really, _really_ would have thought that he’d remember a face like that, too. “Are we in a class together, or...?”

“Nah, I graduated two years ago,” he said. “But I been over here a few times. Thought this was Brock’s place. He, uh… took my place as star-center. Pierce asked me to coach him a few times, when I was having trouble finding work, and he was… you know, trying to play football like he didn’t need a team.”

Tony snorted. “That, I can believe. This _was_ his place, but he up and bailed on me without any notice. So I guess someone else is star-center, now.”

Barnes nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Look, I’ll square with you, I am in _desperate_ need of a new place. I’m good for the rent, but if you want, like first month, last month deposit or something, I can do that. My… uh, my current place… my uh, my upstairs neighbor died. And I rent through a company, and the owner was away for a while. I didn’t know what happened, just there was this _smell_ and then bugs, and I couldn’t get anyone in there for over two weeks, and they’ve fumigated twice now, but… it’s awful. I can’t sleep. I have trouble being in the bathroom at all, because it’s just… creeping me out.”

“Oh my _god,_ ” Tony said. “That’s... That’s the most awful thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah. My landlord’s being a dick about it, too,” Barnes said. “Won’t let me break the lease. Gave me a hundred and forty dollars to get a hotel for one night. I’ll be able to fight that a lot better if I can _sleep_.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Tony agreed. “You’re in. The rent is due in a week, and I swear I’ll only ask this once -- can you pay me now so I can square up the power bill before they shut us off?”

“If I can go back to my old place, get the stuff I’m not straight up incinerating, an’ sleep here tonight, you can have whatever you want,” Barnes said. He gave Tony another intense stare. “Guess you really musta been plastered when we met, so we’ll just consider this startin’ over, right? Nice to meet you, Tony. I’m James Barnes. The team always called me Barnes, on account of having four James’s on the roster that year, so you can do that, if you want. I answer to it.”

“You don’t sound that thrilled about it,” Tony pointed out. “I can call you James if you like that better. Or Jim. Jimmy? Jaime?”

Barnes ducked his chin. “My friends call me Bucky, but… uh, I’m tryin’ to be professional, now that I have like, a job and shit.”

“Oh, you definitely should never have admitted that,” Tony said, laughing. “I’ll never let it go, now. Come on, Buckaroo, I’ll show you your room and give you a key.”

***

Having Bucky for a housemate just served to underscore how _terrible_ a housemate Rumlow had been. Bucky paid his share of the bills on time, without Tony having to nag him about it. Bucky did his share of the cleaning with only a minimum of whining about it (and without calling Tony names for wanting the place to be clean in the first place). Bucky didn’t steal Tony’s food. Bucky didn’t throw parties without checking with Tony first, and he didn’t try to shame Tony into getting blackout drunk at least once a week.

Bucky was even tolerant of Tony’s school projects that ended up scattered all around the place. He would sit and watch Tony work, asking surprisingly insightful questions, as if he actually _liked_ Tony.

Tony was developing a little bit of a crush. Just a little one. He could totally keep it under wraps. It was just that Bucky was so fucking _nice_ on top of being so goddamned _gorgeous_ , and he sometimes _flirted_ , just a little bit, and Tony really didn’t know what to do with that. When people wanted to sleep with Tony, they were pretty upfront about it. Bucky didn’t seem to want that, though. He seemed content with the occasional innuendo, an endearment or two. Like it was a joke -- not a joke _on_ Tony, but something between the two of them.

It was charming as hell, and Tony was _definitely_ keeping his crush under wraps, but damn if Bucky wasn’t making it hard.

Still, Tony was pretty sure Bucky would back off in a hurry if he thought Tony was actually interested. Tony wasn’t dating material. Tony kept irregular hours and sometimes forgot to eat. Or shower. He babbled incessantly about his projects and plans -- or didn’t talk at all except in grunts. He did manage to go to his job and get the bills paid on time, but that was mostly out of spite for his father, because damned if he was going to live down to Howard’s expectations. And worst of all, Tony was the kind of guy who apparently got blackout drunk at a party and let his (now-former) utter asshat of a housemate fuck him. (At least, Tony was pretty sure it had been Rumlow. He’d definitely gotten fucked, and there hadn’t been anyone else in the place when Tony woke up the next afternoon.)

Bucky seemed to do everything in groups of two; he had two friends that Tony had met, Steve and Nat, who seemed to be dating each other unofficially, but Tony’d come home to the three of them piled on the sofa like cats from time to time, with Nat sleeping across both men, or with Bucky curled up under Steve’s arm. He had two jobs, the internship with Fujikawa that was hopefully going to turn into a full time paid position eventually, and a night shift as a bouncer at one of the local clubs where it had become something of a sticking point on whether or not Bucky could throw out a particular drunk. He had two modes; charming and sweet, or sleepy and adorably grumpy.

That particular night, he’d dragged himself in at four in the damn morning -- not really all that late for Bucky, based on his night job -- in a slightly different sort of mood. Angry and injured. He peeled his shirt up gingerly as soon as he got in the door, showing off a brilliant red and purple bruise along his ribs. “Tell me we got some ice,” Bucky practically begged, looking over at Tony who was surrounded by bits of his robotics engineering homework; he was that close to figuring out the best way the reengineer the IR distance sensor to detect floor tractioning.

“Yeah, I think we--” Tony glanced up and nearly leaped off the couch. “Shit, what happened?!” He charged into the kitchen and yanked open the freezer. They did have ice, but what was better for bruises was-- He tossed Bucky a bag of frozen peas. “Here, use that.”

Bucky hissed as he pressed the bag to his bare skin. “Failure to follow club etiquette,” he said. “Usually, drunks struggle a bit when we take ‘em to the curb, or they try an’ sneak back in. But you know, they’re not personally after the bouncers. They want to have a good time, and they don’t look out for us in particular. We’re just part of the scene. This guy, though, he had a grudge, apparently, an’ front door didn’t catch that he had a set of brass knuckles. I tossed him out a few weeks back for slapping his date, and I guess he thought that undermined his authority with her, or something.”

“Jeez, what an asshole. He didn’t break your ribs, did he?” Tony lifted the hem of Bucky’s shirt a little higher, peering at the edges of the bruise that were visible over the bag of peas.

“I don’t think so,” Bucky said. He glanced up, and Tony was suddenly utterly aware that he was standing well inside Bucky’s personal space, and that they were almost kissing close. Bucky’s gaze darted down to Tony’s mouth, then up again, those silvery blue eyes darkening. “Oh. Hey there. I’m fine, just a little sore. Vic gave me th’ next few days off, comped for it, just in case. I’m…” he took a step back, hesitantly, putting a little room between them. “I’m gonna try and sleep it off. If it still hurts this bad when I get up, I’ll, uh… go see the doc.”

Tony took his own step back, nodding hurriedly. “Yeah, that’s... that’s sound thinking. I’m... I’m just going to go back to my project.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, aiming toward the living room. Totally unnecessarily, because he was an idiot. “Uh. Let me know if you need anything? I guess?”

Bucky bit his lip and stared at Tony for a long moment. “Yeah, I’ll uh… thank you. And I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, let you know, okay. Don’t stay up too much longer, you need to be at Pym’s seminar at ten thirty.”

Tony nodded again, like some kind of demented bobblehead. “Yeah, I’m just in the middle of a thing, I wanted to get it done, but it won’t take too much longer. I don’t think. Maybe.” He grinned and shrugged. “That’s what coffee’s for, right?”

“Okay,” Bucky said, and he sounded weary, almost defeated. “I’m gonna go crash. Don’t wake me up unless the building is on fire. And, you know, maybe not even then.” He stepped cautiously over and around Tony’s project, stopping in the hall where the tiny washer/dryer combo was to pull his shirt the rest of the way off, revealing a well-muscled back.

Bucky bent, with a pained grunt, and took off his boots, tossed his socks in the washer, and actually unzipped and stepped out of his black jeans, adding them to the laundry. Tony knew damn well that Bucky had some impressive, shapely thighs, but seeing them bare like that was an entirely new experience. He was still staring when Bucky straightened, got the bag of peas situated again, and headed off to bed, wearing only a skimpy pair of close fitting mesh briefs. There was probably a practical reason for those underwear, Tony’s brain ran frantically, that wasn’t to show off his asscheeks by wearing bunfloss.

Whatever that reason was, thank god for it. Tony could feel the flush climbing his cheeks, but he didn’t even care. It was probably creepy of him to be standing here watching Bucky get undressed and ogling that ass and those thighs, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away, either.

Bucky went into his room and closed the door, and Tony remembered how to blink. He kept staring at Bucky’s door for another minute or two, then shook himself all over. Project. He had to fix that IR sensor. Right. He glanced at the door one more time, then went back to the couch and his project.

The sun was well up before Tony finally finished the project and he was trying to decide between the risks of taking a two hour nap and being groggy as hell when he got up again, or making coffee and attempting to muscle through Pym’s seminar, and the rest of his classes, which would put him home just before dinner and going on more than thirty-six hours without sleep, when he heard a shaky, low-pitched moan come from Bucky’s room. “No, no, wait--”

“Bucky? You okay? You need some ice or something?”

Tony cracked the door. Bucky was sprawled over his bed, blankets a tangle around his legs. “Get _off--_ ” he made several abortive moves, like slapping at something, then jerked again, tossing his head from side to side. “No, no--”

“Bucky,” Tony tried a little louder. “Wake up, you’re going to hurt yourself--” He went in without thinking about it. “Hey, Buckshot, it’s okay, you’re okay. Wake up.” He put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, shaking gently.

Bucky shouted, jerked back. His eyes opened, expression full of terror and disgust before relief registered and he recognized Tony. “Oh, oh, god.” Bucky scrubbed at his arms frantically. “They were _crawlin’_ on me. Oh, god.”

“It’s okay,” Tony repeated. “It’s not real, it’s not here. You’re okay. Well, not _completely_ okay, but you know what I mean.” He brushed his hand down Bucky’s arm. “See? Nothing there.”

Bucky scrubbed his hands over his face, through his hair, twisted to check his back, before finally collapsing back onto the bed, one hand on Tony’s wrist, long fingers shaking. “Uh, thanks,” he managed. “Sorry t’ wake you.”

“You didn’t,” Tony assured him. “I was just finishing up.”

Bucky made a scoffing sound. “You need a keeper,” he told Tony. He peered up at Tony, then at the clock. “You have three hours before you gotta be up for school… and you were just gonna make coffee, weren’t you?”

Tony pulled a face. “Probably.”

“Nope,” Bucky said. He rolled over in the bed, making a space and dragged Tony down to the mattress. Before Tony was quite sure what was happening, Bucky had thrown an arm over Tony’s chest, crossed his leg over Tony’s thighs. “ _Sleep_. I’ll make sure you get up on time.” Bucky tucked his face against Tony’s arm, snuggling in.

Tony thought about protesting, but Bucky’s breath was warm on Tony’s skin, and the bed was warm from Bucky’s body heat, and he didn’t really _want_ to get up... And Bucky would probably sleep better, too, knowing someone else was there, that he wasn’t alone in that awful place again. Right? It didn’t mean anything, but that didn’t mean Tony couldn’t enjoy it. He yawned, and let himself drift off to the soft sound of Bucky’s breathing.

***

Bucky woke up with something soft and mushy under his belly (frozen peas that were now no longer frozen at all, yuck) and something not at all mushy under his thigh.

It took him a moment to realize that his ten o’clock alarm was going off, which he’d set specifically because he knew his damn roommate would either be still in an engineering fugue and therefore have forgotten to look at the clock, or asleep and drooling on the sofa. In either case, he’d need some urging to get into the shower and on the train to campus.

He grabbed his phone and slid the snooze button with one thumb before realizing the not mushy thing under his thigh was, in fact, Tony. In further fact, Bucky realized, that he had his thigh over Tony’s hips, and what he was feeling was decidedly a case of morning wood. Tony was sleeping on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, tee rucked up practically to his armpits, showing off a smooth expansion of lean muscle, smooth, hairless skin and an adorable navel. At some point, Tony -- hopefully Tony, although given everything that had happened, Bucky couldn’t swear that he hadn’t done it -- had unbuttoned his jeans to give himself some room while he slept and there was a wide, erotic vee opened, showing off just the edge of Tony’s treasure trail and a few precious, tempting inches of his hip.

Bucky had not woken up with morning wood, but given what he was looking at, he wasn’t shocked to realize that all the blood in his body was rushing south.

And that Bucky himself was all but _naked_ , which meant waking Tony up now was… oh, god, there was no way in hell that Tony wasn’t going to _notice_. Jesus, what had he been thinking at quarter past crack’o dawn?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He’d promised himself when he made the (admittedly, under pressure) decision to move in with Tony that it wasn’t going to happen again.

Bucky couldn’t tell if Tony had forgotten, never remembered at all, or was pretending really, really hard, that they hadn’t…

And, in retrospect, Tony might have been blitzed out drunk. The Tony that Bucky’s met at Brock’s parties wasn’t much like the one Bucky lived with on a daily basis. He hadn’t known Tony well enough to realize… and Bucky had been drinking some, too. Okay, more than some. A lot.

 _It doesn’t excuse your behavior_ , he told himself fiercely. The wave of guilt that accompanied that thought was bad enough that it tamped down on his body’s reaction to Tony’s nearness. _You knew what you were doing._

But, morning wood going down to half-mast, Bucky disentangled himself from Tony’s lean, sweet form, moving his leg and grabbing a handful of blankets to yank up over his hips. “Tony?”

Tony’s nose wrinkled adorably. “Nn,” he denied, and rolled onto his side, curling into Bucky’s body.

Bucky shifted again, getting the sad sack of peas out from under him, because, really, that was just gross. He groaned as the motion bothered his aching ribs. And then groaned again, because shifting _that way_ on the bed had stirred up his dick just a little more, and it was pressing against the sheets, and… _Jesus, you’re pathetic._ “Come on, Tony,” Bucky said, poking Tony’s shoulder. “It’s five after ten. You need to get to class. Probably hafta skip the shower. Can't be helped.”

Tony’s whole face scrunched up, and then his eyes opened. For just a second, he looked up at Bucky with a sleepy, dreamy smile, and then his eyes widened in shock. “Oh, shit!” He scrambled back, nearly dumping himself right on the floor. “Sorry! Sorry, I just, uh.” He yanked down his shirt and fumbled at his jeans until they were fastened.

Yeah, theory confirmed. Tony knew what had happened the night of the party and wished to hell he hadn’t. No wonder he acted so skittish around Bucky. Fuck. Fuck fuck _fuck_.

“Tony-- hey, Tony,” Bucky tried to sound casual, nonchalant, all the things that he wasn’t feeling at all. “It’s okay. Nothing… nothing happened. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What? No, nothing for you to be sorry about, I just--” Tony waved a hand at nothing in particular. “Class. I should get to class. Thanks for, y’know, waking me up and. Stuff.” He backed toward the door, his eyes skittering around the room as if they couldn’t stand to look at Bucky for more than a second at a time.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “You, too, I mean. Thanks for waking me up last night. That… that was pretty bad, really. I appreciate it. You didn’t… shouldn’t… I’m sorry.” It was only the tip of the iceburg for what he was sorry for, but they didn’t have time to talk it out now. Maybe later. It didn’t make things better, but maybe he could… Bucky didn’t even know. “I’ll, uh… see you this evening, okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Tony agreed. “This evening. Tonight. Later.” He nearly walked right into the door, then turned around to grab for it. “Right. Uh. See you.” And then he was gone. A minute later, Bucky heard the front door open and slam.

“You are an idiot, Barnes,” Bucky told himself. Of course he was going to make Tony nervous as shit, and he literally had no excuse. He scrubbed his hands over his face and then collapsed into his blankets with a low moan. Well, that was no good. Tony hadn’t showered in at least two days, and now Bucky’s blankets were drenched in Tony’s smell. Bucky groaned again, pulled the pillow closer and breathed in.

 _You gotta stop_ , _Barnes_ , he mentally scolded himself. _Come clean. Apologize_.

Which might have been easier, Bucky reflected in the next few days, if he hadn’t scared Tony to death first. The man avoided the hell out of the apartment until Bucky was back at work, and even then, they kept only seeing each other in passing. Bucky had to write the rent check out and leave it magnetted to the fridge, it got that bad.

The semester was drawing to a close before Bucky finally came across Tony with a thick book in his lap, hunched over it in such a way that the table lamp’s beam was on Tony’s hair rather than illuminating the book. Bucky was off from his night job, having swapped a shift with Bruce, who had to go to his girlfriend’s birthday party.

“Oh, hey, Tony,” Bucky said as he walked in the door, taking a long moment to just look at his roommate. God, Tony was stupidly gorgeous and he didn’t even seem to know it. He was sloppy half the time, dressed in faded tees and jeans with grease stains all over them, a ragged pair of keds on the floor near him, bare feet tucked up on the sofa. His hair was a disaster, sticking up in all directions at once. He made Bucky’s hands itch to just pet Tony, to rub the tension out of his shoulders. To take care of him, and then, maybe, to _take care of him_.

_Stop it, you’re not supposed to think about that anymore._

Might as well rage at rainclouds.

Tony looked up, looking almost guilty. “Hey,” he said, some kind of patently false casual tone. “Thought you were working tonight.”

“Swapped. I’ll be working six days in a row next week.” That was going to suck balls, really. He hung up his messenger bag and stepped out of his work loafers. God, he hated those shoes. _Business casual, my ass._ “Look, can, uh… I hate to be a bother, but can we talk about what happened, Tony? If not today, I can, you know, set an appointment with… I know you’re busy.”

Tony froze like a deer in headlights for a few seconds, then forcibly shrugged and closed his book. “Sure, let’s talk. Why not?”

“I wanted to apologize,” Bucky said, and he sat down across from Tony, far enough away to not be threatening. “For everything, really. I shouldn’t…. I should have known better, after-- forcing you to lay down in my bed, after everything else, that was _unacceptable_ , Tony, and I am sincerely sorry. I’ve been tryin’ to make up for what happened, and to look out for you, but… maybe it’s just me, trying to make myself feel better about it.”

Tony had gone from looking resigned to looking... baffled. “What happened?” he repeated. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re... you’re going to have to back up a little further, there.”

Bucky sighed. “The party, Tony,” Bucky said, softly. “I can’t tell if you’re repressing it, or if you don’t remember, or what, but it’s clearly affecting you. Us. Not us, I mean, there’s no us, but…”

Tony twitched. “Did I really make that big a fool of myself?” he asked. “Got sauced and then just slutted it up, huh?”

Bucky could feel his eyes getting wider. “Is that what you think happened? You… _you don’t remember_.” Fuck. Bucky’s fists balled up, until he could feel his fingernails biting into his palm. What the hell had he actually done, god? He could have sworn that Tony was a little sauced, giggly and cuddly and so, so adorable. Flirty. He’d spent most of the night sitting in Bucky’s lap, talking about quasars and black holes and cold fusion. Bucky knew if he’d been drunk enough to have a black out, he wouldn’t have been talking coherently about _anything_. And probably not even standing up, for that matter.

When Tony had invited Bucky back to his room, Bucky’d gone. Of course he had. Had enjoyed Tony thoroughly, with Tony encouraging and urging him on the whole time. Given Tony his number later, waited for him to call.

Which he hadn’t, but… that happened sometimes. Maybe it hadn’t been as good as Bucky expected.

Bucky was getting his nose rubbed in what an asshole he’d been. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t realized… “Fuck, Tony, I am so, so sorry. You have to believe that.” Except, Tony didn’t really have to do anything, did he?

“You keep saying that,” Tony complained, “but I still don’t know what you’re sorry _for_. What the hell did I do at that party?” His eyes rounded in horror. “Please tell me I didn’t fuck him for an audience.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to be confused. “Who?”

Tony made a face. “Rumlow. I’ve made stupider decisions, probably, but that definitely ranks right up there. I can’t blame you for being disgusted by me -- trust me, _I’m_ disgusted by me.”

“No,” Bucky said, utterly horrified. Disgusted, Jesus. It was on the tip of Bucky’s tongue to just not say anything more, to let Rumlow take the blame, but fuck, that would be worse, that would make Bucky from an accidental asshole all the way to truly unredeemable human garbage. “Oh, god, no, that’s… that’s _not_ what happened.”

Tony blinked at him owlishly. “It’s... it’s not?”

“It isn’t,” Bucky said. “It… uh… Tony, it was me. No audience. No slutting it up. You didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t realize you were so drunk, I know it’s no excuse, and I can’t possibly tell you how sorry I am for taking advantage of you. I… thought you wanted to-- you don’t remember, and I remember _everything_.”

Tony stared. “It was _you?_ ” He looked around as if searching for hidden cameras or maybe a mouse willing to corroborate the story. “Not Rumlow. You.”

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted. “You were telling me about the firewall theory for black hole paradoxes, and, uh… sitting in my lap. Like, you appropriated my lap not ten minutes after I walked in, and stayed there pretty much all evening. I… thought you were a little tipsy, but, believe me, I would never have-- well, I guess I can’t say that, can I? Since I did.”

“Oh, thank god,” Tony sighed gustily.

“Uh, what?” That was _not_ the reaction Bucky was expecting. “Why do I feel like-- what… You’re not… pissed with me?” Bucky hovered uncertainly, not sure what the proper response was to any of this.  

Tony actually snorted. “Buckaboo, I’ve spent _weeks_ thinking I had the poor taste to let _Rumlow_ in my bed. This is... such a relief, honestly. I mean, I’m not surprised you didn’t know how drunk I was; you wouldn’t believe me if I told you how old I was when I had my first drink. I have spent _years_ learning how to function when I’m inebriated.” He cocked his head. “Are you sure _you’re_ not pissed? You didn’t exactly stick around to let me make you breakfast, and then I had the bad taste to forget everything.”

Bucky shrugged, awkward and feeling wrongfooted. “I had to work. I gave you my number,” Bucky protested. “You never called. I mean, I know I… tend to think these things mean more than they do. And then, when I came over about the room, you said you didn’t remember me. So, you know, either you were tryin’ to ghost me and I should be good and take the hint, or you really didn’t remember, in which case, why bring it up? I thought-- after last week, I thought you did remember, but you were in a bad situation, and… I don’t know, that I was givin’ you trauma by tryin’ to… honestly, I was exhausted, I didn’t mean to… impose on you.”

“ _Trauma_?” Tony said. “You were being _nice_ to me, taking care of me, and I woke up rubbing my damn dick all over your leg! Of course I was traumatized; that was embarrassing as hell!”

There was not a convenient hole to crawl into and die. Life was so unfair sometimes. “Figures you remember _that_ part,” Bucky muttered. “Tony, I am so, sor--”

“Look,” Tony said. “I hit on you first, right? You said I was sitting in your lap.”

“Yes,” Bucky agreed. It had been really nice, honestly. For the first time, someone who cared about what Bucky thought, rather than how many yards he’d gained in the last game. He wanted to be more than a football career. Someone who assumed he was smart, rather than some dumb jock.

“Okay, and you were nice to me? A good time was had by all?”

“Nice as you’d let me be,” Bucky said. Did Tony not know what a bossy little brat he was in bed? Not the time to ask that question. “An’ I enjoyed it. You… I thought you did.” Bucky’d done more than enjoy it. He’d pretty much come so hard that he thought his eyeballs were going to pop out, and spent the next couple of weeks constantly reliving it, fantasizing about it, hoping like hell that Tony would call him. He’d been ruined for other casual hookups.

Tony waved away Bucky’s uncertainty. “Trust me, sugarplum, if I hadn’t enjoyed it, you would’ve known about it. I’ve been known to fake a lot of things, but satisfaction between the sheets is not on that list. Did you use a condom?”

“I’m not an idiot,” Bucky said. “Of course. I wouldn’t… make someone live with that kind of uncertainty, that’s a horrible, shitty thing to do to someone, even just a hookup.”

“Okay, then we’re good,” Tony said. “I mean, I get that it wasn’t ideal, but Christ, I thought it had been _so much worse_. Stop telling me you’re sorry, or you’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“Okay, good, that’s… uh, that’s good,” Bucky said, twisting his fingers together. “So, uh… good talk, I’m glad we got it all straightened out.”

“Anything else you wanted to go over?” Tony asked, eyebrows arching.

 _Yes. You. With my tongue._ Bucky couldn’t quite help the jolt of heat that accompanied that thought. “I’d love to know why you jumped immediately to Rumlow, honest,” Bucky said. “You asked for my number, I watched you put it in your phone. I mean… Brock? _Really_?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Because I woke up alone and he was the only one left in the apartment? Because you keep saying you gave me your number, but I never saw it! I didn’t have your number in my phone until you moved in, and I saved it from that first call.” He pulled out his phone and flipped to the contacts list, turning it to show the number saved under “Barnes, James Barnes.”

Bucky held out his hand for the phone and then thumbed through Tony’s contacts. “I saw you,” he muttered, then… “Oh.” He handed the phone back to Tony, on another entry. _Jaime_. And not-quite his number, the last two digits transposed.

“Huh,” Tony said. “So even if I’d remembered, I still wouldn’t have been able to call you.”

Bucky took a deep, shuddering breath. So many things had gone wrong, it was like fate was trying to say “thou shall not date” or something. “Next time, I’ll leave a note,” Bucky growled.

“Next time?” Tony asked, his head cocked to the side.

“Well, I didn’t mean _you_ ,” Bucky stammered. God, could he be any more of an idiot, was it even possible? “I meant, just… hookups in general. I guess.”

Check in the box, _yes_ , it was possible to be more of an idiot, apparently. “Well, I mean… not that there’s anything wrong with you, or--” Bucky shut up, putting his head in his hands. “Can we just stop talking about this before I have to throw myself in the river?”

“Nah,” Tony said. “I was sort of enjoying the part where you didn’t have to apologize for dragging me into your bed.”

“Well, I won’t do it again,” Bucky said. “The apologizing, I mean, I-- I reserve the option t’ sit on you an’ make you sleep sometimes.” He peeked out from behind his hands to study Tony’s face, not entirely sure that Tony wasn’t mocking him somehow.

Tony was watching him, gaze intent. “I suppose that’s fair,” he allowed. “I sat on you, you sit on me; it’s a mutual sitting society. My motives are probably a little more suspect, though, fair warning.”

“I think I should add some sort of no-drinking policy if we’re going to engage in any more sitting,” Bucky said. “But other than that, if my lap’s open, you’re welcome to sit in it. I… uh, liked that.”

“Yeah?” Tony left his book on the arm of the chair and climbed over the coffee table to fold himself into Bucky’s lap. “Hm. I can see why I stuck with it,” Tony said thoughtfully. “Very comfy.”

Bucky one arm slide around Tony’s waist, the other hand on one knee. “Yeah, like that. An’ you were telling me all about some Sagan article an’ you get a little bouncy when you’re excited ‘bout stuff. It was adorable. Jokes aside, I ain’t… you know, really into hook up culture. There’s gotta be somethin’ else there, you know. Little something extra.”

“My Sagan nerdery was that _little something extra_ for you?” Tony asked cheekily, the brat. “I knew you were secretly a geek.”

Bucky looked down his nose at Tony. “Despite bein’ here on a football scholarship, I did, you know, graduate with honors. Double major, physics and political science. You’re… uh, the first person who cared about that.” He was almost sad about that; that Tony had forgotten. Almost, because the way Tony was looking at him made him think that maybe, just maybe, they could start over. It wouldn’t be the same, but when was it ever?

“Now, that’s a damn shame,” Tony said, “because you’re so much more than those muscles. Not that I’m complaining about the muscles, mind you. It makes for a very pretty package. But I knew you were smart. Not just any schlub off the street gets an internship with Fujikawa. You want to discuss string theory?”

“Quantum chromodynamics, before dinner? That’s a heavy subject for an empty stomach,” Bucky said, bouncing one knee and jostling Tony against him. He really liked the way Tony felt, pressing on him. A comforting weight, holding him down, while encouraging him to fly at the same time. Mirror symmetry and a bundle of contradictions, that was Tony Stark. “Why don’t… I make us some dinner, while you finish your homework? We can talk theoretical physics over food, an’ uh… see where things go from there?” He flashed Tony his best bedroom eyes look, wanting to make sure they were on the same damn page, in the same damn book, this time.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Barnes,” Tony said. He stayed on Bucky’s lap for a moment longer, examining Bucky’s face closely. “A little something extra,” he murmured, as if to himself. “Huh. Okay.” He leaned in and kissed Bucky -- just a gentle brush of lips, simple and sweet -- then slid off Bucky’s lap. “Consider that a down payment.”

Bucky’s tongue slipped out to lick his lips, to catch the traces of Tony on his skin. “Yeah,” he said, almost to himself. “I’m in trouble. And you--” he pointed a finger at Tony “-- you are a menace.”

“This,” Tony said, curling back into his chair and hauling the thick textbook into his lap, “is not news. I feel like you should have already known that.”

“Oh, I know it,” Bucky said. “Just feel like it should be said out loud sometimes.” He swooped in and raised Tony’s chin with his fingers. He didn’t quite steal a kiss. That would have been too easy. He brought his mouth very close to Tony’s lips, let the heat swirl between them. And then walked away, to get dinner started, chuckling to himself when Tony made a disappointed little noise.

“And he calls _me_ a menace!” Tony complained. But when Bucky glanced over at him, he was smiling, just a bit.

Bucky didn’t bother to respond, but he flipped on the radio while he tried to find dinner amongst the boxes in the pantry and various meats and vegetables in the fridge. Mexican-style shepherd's pie with a cornbread topping would be quick enough, most of it was fried up and then baked long enough to solidify the cornbread over the top, with minimal mess. One dish dinner, his favorite. Bucky absently sang along with the radio while he cooked, sometimes looking back to watch Tony studying; everything from his tangle of messy hair to his bare toes sticking out from the curl he made on the chair was perfect. Yeah, Tony was a menace.

***

Tony could barely stop himself from wriggling with glee. Dinner had been _fantastic_ \-- why hadn’t he known Bucky could cook? -- and they actually had spent it talking about physics, segueing into a discussion about Tony’s project for his mechanical structures class, because Bucky could obviously follow most if not all of it, in theory if not in practice.

And through it all, they had flirted. Long, heavy-lidded looks, licking of lips, casual innuendos. Bucky had leaned over at one point and swiped his thumb across Tony’s lip to catch a bit of sauce, then licked it off himself, eyes hot on Tony’s. Tony had slid his bare foot up against Bucky’s ankle under the table, working his toes up under the cuff of Bucky’s jeans.

Bucky kept poking his fork at his plate, chasing the last bean around, watching Tony from under the fall of his hair. “A’ight,” he said, finally. “What… are we gonna do about… this?” He waved his fork around, indicating the space in between them.

Tony blinked, because he thought they’d already sorted that out. Hadn’t they? He leaned back in his chair and toyed with his fork to keep himself from crossing his arms. “What... would you like to do about it?” he asked carefully. “I mean. I definitely have not been drinking tonight, and I thought you were on board, but if you’re reconsidering, just say so.”

“I… wanted you t’ have time to consider things,” Bucky said, earnestly. “I fucked this up royally last time, an’... I like you more, now. I’m more… invested. I ain’t… looking for roommates with benefits, if that’s even a thing? I mean, it sounds like it could be a thing, but even if it is, I… I spent the last three months gettin’ to know _you_. Same book, same page, right?”

“You’ve spent the last three months getting to know me, and yet, somehow, you still want to date me?” Tony raised his eyebrows at Bucky. “Brave soul. _And_ you let me spend half of dinner talking about my project, _and_ you even understood it. I am... not seeing any downsides here. At least for me. You may come to regret that decision.”

The look Bucky gave him could have melted iron. “I don’t think so,” he said. And, as if to underscore the point, he bit at his bottom lip. “You’re funny as hell, sly, an’ you never punch down on people, ‘less they deserve it. You talk to your projects like they’re pets, it’s cute. An’ I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you, but you’ve got like, grade A backside going on for you. I could watch you walkin’ around all day.”

Tony laughed at that last. “Okay, let’s give it a try. But please tell me that three months of living together substitutes for three dates, because I have been dying to put my hands on you for at least two of those months.”

“... yeah, I uh… please?”

 _Finally_. Tony got up from the table and leaned in, almost close enough to kiss Bucky, an echo of that pants-tightening little tease from earlier. He waited for Bucky to start to lean in to meet him, then said, “Catch me.” While Bucky was still processing that, Tony laughed and dodged around the table, running toward their bedrooms.

There wasn’t much room in their tiny apartment, and Bucky was on the far side of the table. That being said, he was also the star center for the football team, and had a ridiculously physical night job, so the fact that he did a damn Dukes of Hazzard across the kitchen table and caught up with Tony before he was halfway down the hall probably shouldn’t have been too surprising.

Still, Bucky was a little less than perfectly gentle when he caught Tony around the waist and practically nailed him to the wall like a piece of art, lifting Tony off his feet. He hesitated for just a moment, long enough to search Tony’s eyes for something like permission, and then kissed him, mouth hot and wet and open, thrusting his tongue in and keeping Tony pressed against the wall at the same time.

Tony arched into it happily, sucking on Bucky’s tongue and rolling his body against Bucky’s. And now he was cursing his lost memory, because he’d already _had_ this? And _forgotten_ it? That was... that was a fucking damn shame, because Bucky’s body was firm and warm and _perfect_ as it pressed down on Tony’s.

“God, Tony,” Bucky was saying, and he was practically eating Tony alive, nipping at his ear, exploring the tender skin of Tony’s throat, nuzzling at his jaw. “Been wantin’ you since _forever_.” He bounced Tony a little, rubbing them together obscene and dirty and sweet all at the same time. “Pick a room. Or… I could jus’ blow you in the hallway, if you wanted. That’s like, good, too.”

Tony’s dick jumped in his pants. “Hnng,” he groaned. “You can’t just _say_ stuff like that.” And he wanted, he really did, but he wanted more than that, he wanted... “My room,” he gasped against Bucky’s ear. “Want... need you in my bed.”

“Little dirty talk does it for you?” Bucky wasn’t putting Tony down, either, keeping him carried like a reverse piggyback, with Tony’s thighs spread wide over Bucky’s hips, his arms around Bucky’s neck to keep himself upright. “What else can’t I say? Am I not allowed t’ tell you all the times I wanted to crawl on th’ floor and push one of those big books out of your lap and kiss th’ inside of your thigh?”

Tony couldn’t help but imagine it, and oh _god_. He made some kind of noise that was probably embarrassing as hell as he fumbled behind him for the doorknob, pushed the door open. “Fuck,” he rasped. “You should. You should absolutely do that whenever you get the urge.”

Tony found himself unceremoniously dumped on his bed. “Fuck, you’re heavy,” Bucky complained. He ran his thumbs up Tony’s legs, spreading his thighs. “Right here.” And he bent down and nuzzled at the material of Tony’s pants, enough for him to feel the heat of Bucky’s breath through it. “You’ve got a little birthmark right here, looks like Vermont, a little. Noticed it th’ first time. You’re _real_ sensitive there.”

Yes. Yes, he was. “This seems... some kind of unfair,” Tony said, but then Bucky nipped at the spot through his jeans and _Jesus_. “Or not,” Tony groaned. “Carry on, by all means.” He curled upward to grab two handfuls of Bucky’s shirt, pulling it up and off, because the sooner they got undressed, the better.

“I’m only a little ahead of the curve, so to speak,” Bucky said, reasonably. “You’ll catch up soon enough. Here, lift up a sec--” and he was unbuttoning Tony’s pants and tugging them down. He paused as Tony rolled onto one hip to help, and ran a wondering hand down Tony’s ass. “God you’re so sexy.”

“Likewise,” Tony returned with a smirk. He pushed up into that touch like a cat, then sat up and reached for Bucky’s pants to return the favor. Bucky’s stomach and abs were firm and flat and gorgeous, and Tony just couldn’t help taking a little taste as he worked the jeans open, following the path of the zipper with his mouth, licking and nibbling at the freshly-revealed skin.

“ _Ohgod_ ,” Bucky breathed. And there were those drawers again, blue mesh this time, with a thin band that circled his waist. From this close, they hid nothing, just drew the eye to Bucky’s cock, tucked in that little pouch, hard and bent off to the right. “Tony, you--” Bucky kicked at his jeans that held his thighs pinned, shoving carelessly until he got them off, mostly inside out in the process and dumping most of his pocket trash onto Tony’s floor.

“Mmm.” Tony wrapped his hands around Bucky’s hips and tugged until he could nuzzle at that pretty cock through those ridiculously sinful shorts. “Are all your underwear like this?” Tony wondered. “I approve, definitely.” He licked at the shape of Bucky’s cock, teasing at the rim until Bucky groaned aloud.

“Most, yeah,” Bucky said. “It’s _hot_ , in th’ club. An’ drunks don’t fight fair. I got a combat wedgie one time, and trust me, I didn’t need another one.” He gazed down to where Tony was nestled between his thighs. “You like it?”

“I _love_ it,” Tony admitted. He slid his hands over that mesh, feeling the muscle underneath, then hooked his thumbs over the waistband and pulled them down just enough to let Tony lick at the tip of Bucky’s cock, teasing.

“I’ll uh… oh, that’s sweet… keep it in mind,” Bucky promised, hand going to rest in Tony’s hair, threading through the curls  and gently pulling at tangles until the strands were loose again. “You c’n do that s’much as you want, honey.” He canted his hips up, going loose and pliant over Tony’s bed, one leg rubbing against Tony’s side.

“Good, because you might be addictive.” Tony worked the shorts further off so he could take a bigger taste, licking Bucky from root to tip, then going back down with smaller, softer licks. “Christ, you taste good.” Back up to tease at the spot just behind the head. He wondered if he could get Bucky to pull his hair.

Bucky rocked easily up against Tony’s mouth, making soft, needy sounds, his breath hitching with each inhale. His hand moved from Tony’s hair to cup the back of his neck, to stroking against Tony’s cheek and throat. “Fuck, _fuck_ that’s good, Tony--” He traced the finger of his other hand around Tony’s lip where it stretched, a teasing brush that left tingles in its wake.

Tony hummed and swallowed Bucky down, as deep as Tony could take him, until his nose was pressed into Bucky’s pubic hair and the head of Bucky’s cock was scraping at the back of Tony’s throat. He hummed again and flattened his tongue to stroke the shaft.

Bucky gave a guttural groan, biting down on his lip until it was plump and brilliant red, his hands still on Tony, stroking as much of Tony’s face as he could reach, cupping Tony’s cheeks, then-- “Oh, Tony, wait, wait, wait, Christ, that’s good, but I… I wanna…” Bucky arched into it again, practically whimpering with need.

Tony pulled off with a soft pop and panted for breath, pleased at the way Bucky was moving and sounding. “You want what, honey?” he prompted, looking up at Bucky through his eyelashes.

Bucky stormcloud eyes were dark with desire, his cheeks pleasingly pink. “Ever’thing. All of it. All of you.” He surged up, knocking Tony over and stropping against him like a cat before settling in the cradle of Tony’s thighs. “Wanna touch you ‘til you’re shakin’, want to kiss you breathless, wanna fuck you raw until you’re screamin’ my name.” He nipped at Tony’s bottom lip, denting the skin, and then running a hand down Tony’s chest, fingers toying with Tony’s nipple until it firmed under his caress.

“Oh, god, yes, all of that,” Tony managed. He twined his fingers in Bucky’s hair and practically attacked that mouth, red and swollen from where Bucky’s teeth had been worrying the lip. “Fuck, yes.”

Bucky made good on his threats, returning Tony’s kisses with brutal efficiency, his hand moving down Tony’s body until he wrapped long fingers around Tony’s cock, the barely there touch driving Tony mad with wanting. He pushed into it, and Bucky let him, for a bit, then went back to stroking the skin with just his fingertips, a devilish combination of _too much_ and _not enough._ He swallowed all of Tony’s protests and encouragements with equal fervor until Tony was a mass of jangled nerves and exposed tension.

He tickled at the inside of Tony’s thighs, spreading him wide, before dropping down to nuzzle at Tony’s cock. He licked his way down Tony’s length before nibbling on his thigh, tongue swirling over that birthmark where his skin seemed extra sensitive. Blew cool air over the damp skin, eliciting shivers.

Tony didn’t bother trying to suppress any of his reactions. He shivered and shuddered and moaned and panted. He ran his hands messily through Bucky’s hair, over his neck and shoulders, and then clenched them in the sheets as his body rocked upward in search of more of those devilish, wonderful touches. “God, you’re going to drive me crazy,” he groaned. “In the best possible way. Fuck, that’s good, that’s so...”

Bucky ran a teasing finger over Tony’s hole. “You want... you want me to?” He nuzzled at Tony’s thigh again, his tongue running up the crease between Tony’s thigh and his groin, wickedly sensitive and making him want to spread his legs even further open.

“God, yes,” Tony begged. He jerked his chin toward the little table by the bed. “Stuff in there.” He’d have reached for it himself, but he couldn’t quite seem to get his hands to unclench, because Bucky kept nipping and licking and teasing and oh _christ_ it was amazing and Tony never wanted it to stop.

Bucky gave one last, lascivious lick, from root to tip, before going to dig around in Tony’s bedside drawer with apparent nonchalance. He picked at the selection of condoms, random shit that Tony’d grabbed from the freebee bowl at the health center and a few from various bars and GSA events, before plucking one free. “Rough Rider? What in the-- ribbed and _dotted_? Really?” Bucky sniggered.

“It sounded interesting,” Tony defended, though he didn’t really care that much which condom Bucky chose. “Just pick something and get in here.”

“No, no, I’m curious, now,” Bucky said. He dropped the packet on the bed before picking out a basic lube. “Come here, straddle me, I’ll uh… I wanna be able to see you, and, you know, let you set the pace.”

Tony grinned at him. “Did I tell you the other time that I like riding, is that what’s going on here?” He managed to loosen his hands and rolled over and up onto his knees, crawling over to straddle Bucky’s thighs.

“You mighta mentioned it,” Bucky admitted, “although you weren’t complainin’ about me puttin’ you on your back and bending you in half like a hairpin, neither.” He coated his fingers with lube and started working it up between Tony’s legs, circling the opening to tease, then pushing in with one fingertip to get Tony lubricated.

“No, I don’t imagine that I was,” Tony agreed, because he could imagine it, being pressed down into the bed with Bucky above him, those pretty eyes all dark and wanting, those broad shoulders flexing as they pushed at Tony’s legs... He shivered and mentally added that to the list of things he definitely wanted to do (again).

He rocked back onto Bucky’s hand, pushing himself, enjoying the feel of Bucky opening him up, stroking at his inner walls. “Oh, yeah, that’s... nnn, more,” he begged.

“Look atchoo, squirmin’ around,” Bucky said, and he was grinning, reclined against Tony’s pillows like some sort of diva, eyes watching every expression on Tony’s face. His free hand was tracing up and down Tony’s thighs, across his belly, up his side. Thumbed at Tony’s nipple, and then teased a line over Tony’s lips. “Can’t get enough of you, baby,” Bucky told him. He twisted his fingers, finding Tony’s prostate and stroking it lightly.

Tony’s breath caught involuntarily as that soft touch made pleasure surge through him. “Gonna test that theory,” he panted. He rolled his hips, seeking that sensation again, and Bucky obligingly gave it to him. “Nngh... Oh, god, you’re good at this.”

Bucky shrugged, which did incredibly interesting things inside Tony’s body, which was just _rude_ and _unfair_ and Tony kinda loved it. “‘Bout average, really, but I’ll get better with practice.” He worked Tony up until Tony was riding his fingers with reckless abandon. “Okay, I gotcha, Tony, I got you.” Bucky slid his fingers out, added a little more lube, and then turned his attention to the condom, finding it among the sheets.

He tore the envelope open and rolled it on with one hand. “Huh. That’s… okay, that’s _interesting_.” He stroked up and down his own dick with two fingers, mouth twisting as he explored the texture. “Come on, hop on, darlin’.”

Tony didn’t have to be told twice. Bucky braced his cock as Tony lowered himself down onto it. His eyes rolled back and then closed as he felt the stretch and burn, sweet and hot and perfect. He sank down, and the texture of the condom really was kind of weird, but not in a bad way. “God, you feel good,” he sighed, wriggling just slightly until he was completely bottomed out. He hesitated there, waiting until his body gave up trying to get rid of the intrusion and just relaxed. “So good.”

He shifted his knees slightly, perfecting his position, and then started to move, lifting up and sinking back down, watching the expression on Bucky’s face as he did.

Bucky traced lines up and down Tony’s thighs as he moved, brushing against his cock at the top of the stroke. “Oh, god,” Bucky murmured. “I… yeah, that’s… oh, Tony, you’re so hot, an’... oh, god, yeah, that’s…” His hands snuck around Tony’s waist, fingers teasing at the small of Tony’s back, making him arch away from it, closer to Bucky. It changed the angle until Bucky was rubbing against his prostate almost continuously. “There you are, honey, yeah… oh, _god_.”

Tony would second that thought, but he was already panting from the overload of sensation, the way Bucky’s cock dragged against his prostate and made him feel so wonderfully full, the weird sensation of the condom’s texture that just seemed to make him even more sensitive. “Fuck,” he gasped, and grabbed at his own dick, stripping it like there was a race to be won.

“I got you,” Bucky promised, and he gripped Tony’s thighs, holding him steady and fucked up into Tony’s body, each stroke harder and faster than the one before until Tony was all but bouncing on Bucky’s dick. “Oh, jesus, my _christ_ , Tony, baby, I--” Bucky hitched in a few shuddering breaths.

“That’s it,” Tony said. “That’s perfect, I want to feel you coming in me, want to feel you filling me up.” He was babbling, but he didn’t care. His whole body was fire and crackling sparks and he was teetering on the edge, desperate. He rolled his hips, fucking into his own fist in rhythm with Bucky’s thrusts, and that heat suddenly washed over him, rushing down his legs until his toes curled, making his hand squeeze on his cock, and he threw back his head with a cry of relief and need as he climaxed, spilling over Bucky’s stomach and chest.

Bucky arched up, hips pushing himself even deeper into Tony, until he was practically hovering over the mattress in an effort to get closer. He whined once, then exhaled with a deeply satisfied groan. His hips pumped again, driving himself up, three, four strokes, each one punctuated by another sharp grunt before he collapsed onto the bed, jolting Tony through his aftershocks.

“Oh, sweet Christ,” Bucky swore, pulling Tony down and kissing him, messy and wet and open mouthed, and making an absolutely obscene mess of them both.

Tony was pretty sure he should probably care about that more than he did, but he was too busy enjoying the afterglow to let it worry him much. That was why they made washcloths. And kleenex. “Mmm,” he managed, kissing Bucky back, just as messily, panting even as he licked into Bucky’s mouth. “That was fantastic.”

“You’re fantastic,” Bucky decided. “Gimme, like, a week, an’ maybe I can walk again.”

Tony laughed, then carefully climbed off Bucky and reached for a tissue to clean off the worst of the mess. “So, you’ve uncovered my dastardly plot to keep you confined to my bed.” He tossed the tissue in the general direction of the trashcan, then flopped down beside Bucky, worming his way under Bucky’s arm and throwing a leg across Bucky’s thighs.

“Mmmmhmmm. I like this,” Bucky said, kissing Tony’s hair. “You’re cuddly.”

“Gross libel,” Tony complained, even as he snuggled in closer to Bucky’s side.

“True fact,” Bucky countered. “Evidence is right here.” He tugged a blanket up over them. “You… uh, want me t’ stay the night, so I’m with you when you wake up?”

Tony almost protested that he wasn’t going to forget this time, but Bucky was warm and comfortable and also apparently completely on board with the whole snuggling plan. “Mmmyes,” Tony managed, already halfway asleep. “Dastardly plot, ‘member?”

“Okay.” Bucky fumbled for the light, clicked it, and drenched the room in darkness. “Okay, honey. I’ll be right here.”


End file.
